


Of what does not change

by yourthyla



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: !!, Camping, Fluff, M/M, Old Married Spirk Challenge, Old nerds, POV First Person, Pre-married sort of, Road Trips, T'hy'la
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 09:04:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8572420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourthyla/pseuds/yourthyla
Summary: Now retired, Kirk remembers to accomplish his lost dream to road-trip the United States. He is taking no one else but his faithful lifelong companion with him. In fact, he always has, and always will, because this is just the beginning. 
Written for Old Married Spirk challenge 2016 organised by plaidshirtjimkirk <3





	

There are certain things that remain, although there is no reason. Like driving a 1970s style Ford truck down the endless roads when the cities are full of air cars worth tenth of the price, fiftieth less time waste. Isn’t it just hardly logical?

The air is warm, car windows pulled down, the world before you vast. You don’t rush it. Simply driving on good old flat ground increases your dopamine level and could you believe it? For such a sensation-seeking person, it felt way too good.

He sits there next to you, and you know he loves you just like you love adrenaline, all the best in your life and just like you love him. You grasp his hand, wrap your aging fingers around the pale slender ones that were all but alien to you.

You reach the point when money is surplus and time starts to seem incredibly rare. Not the immediate moments you can’t spare because you are pacing from paperwork to the bridge and from transporter room to the sickbay, catching breath. The actual time that makes you realize you are going to die.

Well, sooner or later.

And then you look around, feet back on your beloved Earth, career fading behind you. You have lived long and prospered, saved and took lives, made life-long friends and found yourself with one alien companion by your side.

Suddenly you don’t really know to fill those two, five, fifteen, or who knows, forty agonizingly slow years you have left when all your life you’ve been ready to die in the next minute. And as my doctor always says, once I start, I will never stop tempting death.

At the same time, as much disturbing as the fact was, there was something that is supposed to be beautiful about reaching this point. So I realized instead of being depressed about it, I should be rewarding myself for making it. That’s when I decided to fulfil my teenage dream that I lost to chasing command. That is to road-trip the United States. I didn’t hesitate twice to propose this idea to Spock. Needless to say he agreed. 

Our journey began in San Francisco, obviously nostalgic. The city where we graduated the Academy, where we returned few years ago (technically, few centuries ago) to save whales. Where so many memories were accumulated that I in fact didn’t regret soon moving on elsewhere, slowly leaving the civilisation and the past behind us.

Passing Nevada, we spent the first night in Utah, which so reminded Spock of his home planet when the sun was setting above the red coloured valleys (I promised to make it our next trip). Too charmed by the nature’s beauty, we had no trouble mostly avoiding cities except when necessary.

After Wyoming and Nebraska, it was me who was reminded of place I called home. There we are: on the road across the Iowan open country. Four days into the trip, we are crossing the sixth state.

Spock is patiently sitting in the passenger’s seat after our today’s too exhausting 8-hour drive. I was especially tired for obvious reasons and although Spock did offer to swap places and be the driver instead, I refused, again for obvious reasons. Not for a while would I doubt his capability to manage actual car driving but it was an unspoken rule that it was my task and my dream. Moreover, I knew Spock had no real desire to do so, other than relieving my exhaustion.

“We’re gonna pull in. How do you feel about camping, Mr. Spock?” I finally say, turning at my passenger who just took a jacket over the sweater to fight the cooling breeze. “Oh, or is it too cold for you?” I assume, though as a human I am not cold in a short-sleeved shirt. Then again, he’s pretty slim.

“We are carrying sufficient equipment to protect us from the night’s coldness. Should you desire to spend the night in a tent, I am more than willing.” Spock agrees with no objections, voicing the reply in his typically neutral tone. I, of course, am able to identify the trust, sacrifice and affection in his voice. I smile, looking back at the road.

“You don’t have to submit to me just to make this perfect for me, you know that, right?” I remind him with gentle amusement, hating myself for loving Spock’s utter dedication that makes him put my needs before his own.

“Your satisfaction pleases me, and although there is little I would not do to grant it to you, my decisions are bordered by logic and my own comfort. You needn’t worry.” He assures me, making the smile linger on my face.

Sooner than thirty minutes later, I park the car in a quiet lakeside area. It already got dark, a bit chilly even for me to take a jacket on. We build fire and put up the tent, big enough just for us two to be cosy. We don’t need much.

For dinner we get by with some bread, tuna and vegetables. I also bought few bottles of beer, consuming two just for the feeling of returning to some silly Earth habits. Spock actually enjoys some non-alcoholic ginger ale (he doesn't like the taste of Terran alcohol and it’s not like it affects him anyway.)

It is a quiet place. Nobody else far around us, so beside each other’s voice, only the fire and nature keeps us company, under the sky full of stars, which...don't even get me started about stars.

To ensure Spock’s complete comfort (regardless of the campfire I notice him silently shivering), I bring a blanket to cover us with it. I wrap my arm around his body to clutch him closer and I rub my palm against his upper arm in attempt to warm him up.

Some things, they remain. Like books. We have perfectly practical technology to make our lives easier but nothing can replace a good hardcover book. Spock and I tend to be old-fashioned. We sit there and I read him number of pages from my favourite book I brought along, too. 

When I'm finishing a chapter, we instinctively find each other’s hand, just to feel each other and stay still.

“Jim.” He speaks after several minutes of silent observation of the fire.

“Hm?” I use the opportunity to study his profile when I turn, appreciating his Vulcan features. I sigh internally at the fact he never gets any less captivating. Maybe it’s for that Vulcans don’t consider getting old as a bad thing. Instead of worrying about their wrinkles, they appreciate their expanding wisdom. Sometimes it’s still a bit strange to find myself by someone like him. I mean, him as the person to grow old with. In the middle of my thoughts, I sense Spock gets unsure about his question.

“I did not mean to read your thoughts but I have been contemplating our companionship. You are close to getting to similar point and I wish to share it. By words, surely may it be.” He expresses his feelings like I taught him to openly do with me, because I don’t like him bottling things inside him. But at this one I sigh mildly.

“Spock, are we doing this again? We spent like half a life together. Don’t pull this ‘companionship’ on me. We are lovers, hell, you are my soul mate, also my best friend. We were supposed to talk this out during chess matches on the Enterprise. It’s not necessary anymore-“

“Jim.” He shut me up just with that calmly and seriously said word. “You did not even give me the chance to talk.” I apologise quickly, humbly. “For a long time, I meant to question you if you are certain about staying with me. In the end..”

“In the end what, Spock?” I sigh again. This is not the first time he says this. He pauses and takes a breath but I continue. “I have been screwing around with females all my life? I’ve been too independent to handle loving one person? I can’t appreciate the way you are, look. Your race, your gender. Is that it? I might after all just love you as a friend? That I'm an old opportunist who’s lacking excitement so he fools around with a man just for the hell of it?! Is that it?!” I get too carried away. Spock’s body tenses under my arm, there’s sudden silence and I can’t move either. I hurt him. And I was right, I know him too well. And as much as I suck at empathy, I swallow my pride for him anytime.

“Spock.” I whisper softly then, looking at him the whole time he’s looking ahead. I get up to get right in front of himself where I hunker down to face him whether he wants it or not. “For a telepathic Vulcan you are quite blind.”

 

I smile and grasp both of his hands resting in his lap. “I know it’s my fault, I’m too arrogant to give you the certainty of us but I can’t understand how you’re still worried. I always chose you, and I always will. You have been the most exciting thing in my life and..” I shake my head, showing him the hopelessness in my face. “Paradoxically, I’m probably the worst of us when it comes to expressing emotions.” I just give up and lean closer to slowly kiss his mouth instead.

He finally reacts and presses his thin lips against mine. I release his hands and rub my palms along his thighs, not too provocatively (I don't want to disprove my point anyhow.) And I proceed to kiss him, moving my lips against his softly. He kisses like no one else ever does and it is not expected to be surprising but doing this with him always feels like discovering the act of kissing for the first time.

 

We don't kiss much. And Spock is on point when he thinks it's confusing we've never been exclusive. But there is something immensely exciting to me about not having him for granted and every time we touch, it tastes like something new and forbidden. I guess it's been about that, I realize just now. 

 

I actually do realize. Spock is kissing me like it's for the first and last time. When we embrace, he does it like he's afraid I'll slip through his arms and won't be his. I'm not afraid, I can't imagine him ever turning his back on me. But wouldn't it be good to quit playing and have certainty for once?

 

It must last minutes, I find myself kissing his neck instead and then moving to his ear, kissing the earlobe and paying attention to the pointed tip as he likes it. Not only likes it, in fact. He whimpers my name in response and I decide to call it a day here. 

 

I change my position as my knees begin to feel uncomfortably stiff. It allows our lips to part for a brief moment and I use it to whisper in the narrow gap between our lips “I love you.” and kiss him once more before standing up.

After extinguishing the fire, I lie in the tent with my lover, keeping him warm in my arms. I don't even exactly remember when we started doing this but it was surely after the five-year mission and before we had the actual sex for the first time. Which was shortly after but still, it's not my usual sequence of events.

“Were you actually implying something by the thing you said back there?” I ask him then, just while thinking back about it in my head. It takes Spock slightly aback. He answers after a while.

“That very much depends.” I turn to him, my forehead brushing over his bangs and we don’t see a thing in the dark, just hear and feel each other.

“On?” I tease.

“Your reply, naturally. I had no time to elaborate after you took action.” He explained. For a while I was silent, but I think I’ve known.

“Look at us. We never manage to be honest with each other. We’re like kids. How long have you been thinking about marrying me?”

Another moment of silence ensued, but it was not the bad kind. In fact, I don’t even know because I surprised myself, feeling strangely excited at the words coming out of my mouth. He then attempted to start a sentence with several different words, which was ridiculously loveable.

“Perhaps I had something more of a bonding ritual on my mind, which, which you as a human don’t necessarily have to be so troubled by, it does not appear in Earth records should you not wish it..” he trails off.

“Oh, so, you don’t want to marry me?” I don’t know where I’m going with this whatsoever but I feel disappointed by the idea of refusal.

“No, Jim, absolutely – yes, but”

“Did you just say yes?" I blurt out before realizing I even asked at the first place.

 

"Jim. I simply meant I wish to know if we act like partners and decide about the rest of our lives together, or if we only continue joining our paths independently, do you understand?"

"Mr. Spock, just say the word, it's too late not to spend the rest of my life with you, don't you think?" I smile.

 

The conversation ends with that, maybe Spock thinks enough was said, or he just doesn't want to continue. I bring him closer to assure him I am not going to change my mind. 

 


End file.
